Liberatrix
by Fem-inja
Summary: “Tear away the shroud of normalcy. Cast off the inhibitions of society. Be what they're afraid of, be what they despise, be you." Contains OCs and OC/Dib, but only as a tool to implement ZADR. I promise. No one belongs with Dib but Zim.
1. Shooting Star

Hello there everyone! Here is the re-upload of my lovely fic. Sorry about the delay. I'll be more regular with the updates now that I've gotten the plot worked out more thoroughly.

I do not own Invader Zim. Jhonen Vasquez, however, does.

* * *

It was a dark night that night, one where the moon was absent from the sky and even the stars seemed so dim and alone in all the endless black of space. These were the kind of nights people stayed inside. Flickering streetlamps aren't enough to keep human minds at ease.

That's why no one noticed the crash landing that occurred. That's why no one suspected.

It started as a star. Brighter and a little larger than all the others, but still, just a tiny blinking light on the horizon. Then it grew stronger. If anyone had seen the craft at this point, they would have mistaken it for a shooting star. Perhaps someone wished on her that night? She would laugh at that.

Then, it was blaze. Like someone had ignited a match in the heavens, sputtering and flickering with purpose, growing brighter and brighter until it seemed close enough to touch.

Then, it was a crash.

The ship collided with the topsoil, various appendages scraping gaping rifts into the earth. Screeches of shearing metal and the snaps of trees decimated in the impact filled the air. It ground on through gritty dirt and uprooted flora, coming slowly but surely to a stop.

Then silence. Nothing but the soft crackling sound of fire that had been carried down from the entrance through the atmosphere disturbed the night. Everything was still.

The craft was of an unfamiliar structure. Sharp angles, claw like attachments, over all it looked quite like an insect. The surface was scratched and worn, and from the look of things, most of it wasn't from entering the atmosphere. Signs of battle marred the small ship, battle from advanced weapons it would appear. Whoever this pilot had been running from, they wanted them dead.

The cockpit shifted, then opened with a sound of pressurized air decompressing. A form stepped out , landing on the upturned loam that flanked either side of the ship in little peaks.

"Well, that was one heck of a ride."

Smug, cocky, a hint of hysteria. Obviously the voice was female, a somewhat matured one. She rested a palm against the ships hull, chuckling to herself.

"It will sure get a lot worse if we don't get that lovely little accessory off of you."

The other voice that chimes in was dripping with sarcasm and cynicism. Feminine, but definitely computerized.

"Oh, I'm sure it will." She laughed, the hand going from the hull up to her neck, fiddling with silver collar resting at hollow of her throat. "Judging by how much they want me dead…"

She paced from the side of the craft, stepping down the slope of dirt onto more level ground. Murmurs floated from her lips and shadows cast by the fires concealed her for the most part.

"Let's see. One week before the prison ship was scheduled to dock... Once they find out about that, they'll give it an extra day—maybe two if we're lucky—for the ship to arrive late. When that doesn't happen."

The woman shruged, eyes scanning the trees around them.

Another shadow, the one presumably owned by the sarcastic voice, hopped out from the cockpit. As she moved the firelight caught on her skin in round puddles of light.

"I need to check your PAK." The statement is matter of fact, routine. She might as well be asking for the time. "There could have been some damage during our less-than-graceful decent.

The other figure nodded, and the sarcastic silhouette stepped forward into a small patch of light. It was obviously a machine, from the joints and the various mechanical attachments. Whatever it was: it was built in a sort of anthromorphic rabbit shape, about two feet tall. Long, metallic ears that dangle down to its knees twitched back and forth, then rose above it's head. They circled one another in three rapid successions, and then lowered back to her sides.

"Everything seems to be functional, well as functional as your PAK can get, but I should really do an in-depth scan."

A part of the ship sparked and burst into flames, illumining the area further. The taller figure glanced over to the embers, black eyes reflecting their light. The fire cast a darker tone to her lime-green skin, transforming it to the hue of damp moss.

"Later. Right now, we need to take care of this problem." Her low voice shifts the air, four metallic legs akin to spider appendages extend from her pack, lifting her slightly into air. "We have enough to deal with. We don't need natives giving us any trouble."

Antenna twitching alertly the metallic legs carried the Irken female forward toward the crashed vessel. The tiny rabbit-like robot sighed, and followed after.

The wreckage was gone by morning.


	2. Rainy Mornings are the Best

He was greeted with a misty grey sort of morning as his eyes cracked open to greet the new day. The scenery beyond the small window was washed out, like a watercolor canvas, with overtones of misery. Typical beginnings to a typical life.

Rolling over, Dib reached out to silence the screaming demon that was his alarm clock. Waking up this early was ridiculous, a perfect portrayal of humanity's idiocy. It was a fact, proven by many of the world's most renowned scientists, that teenager's brains weren't completely active until 9:00 a.m. But of course, school districts around the globe still persisted to get them up at 6:00 in the morning. No wonder America was an academic laughing stock. They couldn't even utilize their own research properly.

Yawing loudly, Dib rubbed the sleep from his eyes. A morning drizzle began to form, sliding easily down the dirty glass, forming a rhythm on his window. His eyes fluttered, fighting to stay open, but it was too early, his bed was so warm and the sound of raindrops was too soothing.

Rain.

The young paranormal investigator grinned wickedly, morning grog completely dissipated.

It would be raining on the way to school today.

With renewed vigor, Dib leapt from his covers and began to pull a pair of black jeans over his navy _Mysterious Mysteries_ boxers. As he threaded his belt through the pant loops, a slight cackle escaped his lips.

"Good morning Zim." Dib muttered to himself, fastening the buckle and proceeding to search for a clean shirt. "Nice weather we're having today, don't you think?" Glorious, he could practically hear the sizzling alien flesh.

"Are you ever going to stop taking to yourself?"

A cynical voice sounded from Dib's door way. The purple-haired terror, his sister Gaz, stared at him with knitted brows. She was clad in a replica of the lavender dragon pajamas from her middle skool days, the stuffed wings quivered as she walked past his room. "And stop sleeping with your door open. Mornings already suck enough without me seeing you shirtless." One of her eyes twitched subtly and she disappeared from the frame, making her way down the hall.

Paying his aggressive sister's comments no mind, Dib ran to the door, peeking his head out and calling to her as she moved further through the hallway.

"It's raining today Gaz! Zim has to go to school like any 'normal' kid, with only the meager protection of an umbrella. An umbrella! He's vulnerable!"

The bathroom door at the end of the hall slammed shut, but Dib's quixotic mood persisted. He reentered his room, pulling his signature, neutral face shirt over his head and threw on his black over coat.

"Today's a great day!" He exclaimed to no one in particular. Obviously his habit of talking to himself was undeterred by his younger sister. Why would he care what she said, after all? It was a wonderful morning!

Rainy mornings were always the best.


	3. Rainy Mornings are the Worst

The Dib human was coming. That he knew for sure.

Pasty green claws tapped against the chilled glass as the droplets descended. Despite his nervous twitching, the alien's expression feigned a convincing impatience.

"Gir!"

The command pierced sharply through the air. A few seconds later the repetitive clinking of tiny, metal feet responded to his call. With a high pitched squeal, the blue and sliver robot tore through the archway from the kitchen and into the living room, full throttle towards his master. Mere seconds before impact, Gir skidded to a screeching stop, a small clamp-like hand raising in salute.

"I married a monkey!" He exclaimed, wincing his cylindrical eyes and sticking out his tongue.

Zim stared flatly at the unit, shook his head, and continued with his previous train of thought.

"Gir, Where is the umbrella I commanded you to retrieve?" He held his hands out—palms up—clutching and un-clutching his claws. "Give it to Ziiiim!"

Gir's large eyes opened fully, iridescent blue glowing blankly. He blinked a few times, the wordlessly trotted off. A stupid grin plastered on his face.

As he waited, Zim returned his gaze to the window, crossing his arms.

A few, silent moments passed.

"RAIN!" Snarling, Zim pointed out the window in indignation, stance widening, sharp teeth bared. "Curse you infernal liquid from the sky!"

His eyes narrowed to magenta slits from sheer rage. How dare this natural Earth phenomenon challenge him? Him! The almighty Zim!

Stalking away from the rectangular pane of glass, Zim made his way to the couch. There, on the armrest lay his brilliant disguise. The FOOLISH rain had distracted him to the point where he nearly forgot about it. That would have been most inconvenient. Zim lashed his snake-like tongue beyond his lips. Even indoors the air was thick with moisture. Zim could taste it.

Ugh.

Face still set into a decisive grimace, Zim picked up one of the milky white contact lenses. With a steady hand, he peeled back his eyelid and placed it over own his pupil-less eye. He waited a moment, blinking quickly in an attempt to subside the discomfort, then inserted the other.

Zim had just tucked his spindly antennae under the black wig when Gir returned.

"Finally!" The alien hissed as Gir came before him, jumping up and down excitedly. Squealing, the robot presented the requested item, thrusting it above his head towards his masters scrutinizing gaze.

Odd.

With a questioning "Heh?" Zim took the contraption into his claws, turning it over and examining it closely.

It was an umbrella… Of sorts. It had no handle. Instead, two plastic rings joined with strips of the same material protruded from below the canopy. It was also impossible to close.

"What is this!?" The rain outside seen to fall with increasing frequency, Zim's frantic words match the pace. "This is not a standard model! How do I use _this?_"

Alternating from foot to foot in a funny little dance, Gir pointed to his own head.

"It goes on your HEAD!"

The living room filled with silence again. Zim stared intently at the hat-model umbrella, scratching his head with a free hand. The hand returned to the object.

"IT'S GENIUS!" Zim exclaimed, overly dramatic as usual. With a smug expression, Zim placed the umbrella over his head, twisting it slightly to secure it. It even left his hands free in case he needed to fend off the Dib-Human. Perfect!

"I shall now depart Gir, with my BRILLIANT rain shielding device. Make sure too keep the squirrels off the lawn. They've been chewing on the defense systems."

And with that Zim strode to the front door. Swinging it open, Zim saw exactly who he expected to see standing just outside his base's fence. There he was.

The Dib.


End file.
